


Back in Touch

by noxelementalist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Clexmas, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Community: clexmas, First Kiss, M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxelementalist/pseuds/noxelementalist
Summary: In which Lex should really know better and Clark does





	1. Back in Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fruitbat00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitbat00/gifts).



> Originally written for this year's Clexmas Challenge, for posting on January 31 (which...I mean, I've tried to get in touch, but seems to have vanished, probably due to a combo of people getting sick and tech problems)
> 
> Anyway! On to the story! Set vaguely sometime in S1 or S2 (you can pick. It's really...not episode connected at all ><")

“Sorry I’m late,” Clark was saying as he entered the barn, dropping his leathery winter coat on the floor. “You won’t believe how hard it was getting out of town.”

“I can imagine,” Lex said from where he sat against the edge of Jonathan Kent’s tractor, the metal starting to stick to his slacks. He’d arrived at the barn a half hour earlier while there’d still been daylight out, but it was very much night outside now, and it was only because of the flashlight that he’d managed to find that Lex could even see that it was Clark who’d come in. “Lots of traffic these days for the holidays, even in Smallville.”

“Yes, but it’s really the weather,” Clark replied as he went to light a lamp, the wick bursting with a golden light once it caught. “You’re definitely not going anywhere tonight.”

Lex choked back a sigh of content at the sight Clark made. Even with a nighttime sky half-cloudy and a threat of snow in the air, Clark Joseph Kent still managed to wear the light spilling out on the barn floor like a cloak Lex wanted to lie under.

And he doesn’t even know it, Lex added to himself, watching as Clark settled onto his back feet after hanging the lamp from one of the rafter beams. “It’s really that bad out?” Lex asked at last.

Clark nodded, the gesture casting strange shadows behind him. “Snow’s coming down from the North,” he said, “so the cops have already closed the roads heading out of town. I guess they don’t want anybody stranded on their way into Smallville.”

“That’s very caring of them, but what if somebody out here needs help? Is it every farmer for themselves?”

“Pretty much, but we’re used to staying indoors when it’s blizzard weather anyhow.”

“Clark, we’re in East Kansas. It’s December. We’re not getting a blizzard.”

“There’s a white halo around the moon,” Clark replied. “It’s going to blizzard, trust me.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Clark smiled. “Mind helping me with the tarps before we get in?”

“Not at all,” Lex said, grabbing a pitchfork from where it lay against a beam.

They had barely managed to walk inside— Lex having helped Clark secure things in the barn for the weather and Clark grabbing the lamp so that Lex could leave the flashlight on Jonathan Kent’s work bench (“Dad really only uses it when he’s under the tractor or the lamp runs out of oil,” Clark had explained to Lex as he put it down) — when the first snowflakes had begun to fall.

“Let it snow, huh?” Lex asked as he watched Clark blow out the lamp and set it on the kitchen table.

“It’s just getting started,” Clark told him as he moved through the kitchen, the motion followed by a thumping sound that Lex knew meant the younger man was on the staircase.

“Oh really?” Lex shouted after him, crossing through the kitchen to go into the living room after politely shuffling off his shoes by the screen door. “I couldn’t have guessed.”

“Not all of us are geniuses,” Clark replied, reappearing in front of Lex dressed in a flannel red-and black stripped pajamas that gripped Clark’s hips snugly and was matched by a long-sleeve, grey-knit shirt Lex swore was plastered tight against Clark’s chest like a woolen bedsheet. “I’m getting wood for the fireplace, see if I can get a fire going,” he added as he walked over to the kitchen, apparently missing Lex standing stock-still in the living room with his mouth open at the sight of Clark dressed for bed. “Then it’s definitely cocoa time.”

“That sounds, ah, yeah, I, ah, changing,” Lex stammered out, gesturing to the empty air. “I’m…changing.”

“Make sure you put on something warm!” Clark called after him.

What happens if I don’t Clark? Lex thought to himself as he trudged upstairs. You going to squeeze me against you?

It was a thought the likes of which Lex had grown irritatingly, painfully familiar with over the last four months. Clark, who was always around (except for the last two weeks, which Lex did not feel bitter about at all), who dressed like he was ready to hug you at a moment notice, with eyes that shone with every emotion and hands that seemed to be constantly pulling Lex out of trouble and against Clark’s body, like Lex’s whole life was just one long series of drowning accidents for a Kansas farm-boy to rescue him from (and Clark would too: he was just that stupidly caring and kind.)

Lex wanted to strip Clark naked, rest him out spread-eagle along the couch in that damn loft of his, and see just how long and rough a bang that wholesome barn-door of a teenage dream body would take until all that remained was an exhausted puddle of lissome limbs and supple muscle drenched in sweat and questionable fluids. Lex wanted it so bad he’d almost considered terrifying some poor postal worker in Alaska with a Letter to Santa containing a detailed description of what he wanted to do to Clark's bicep alone because he’d been a very, very good boy this year.

“But no, Santa’s not going to leave me what I want for Christmas,” Lex muttered to himself as he finally reached the guest room where Clark had stashed a change of clothes from the last time Lex had been forced to stay over (that time due to a late autumn flood blocking his way back into town, short of a helicopter flight.) “No, instead I’m just going to get cocoa.”

 

***

          

“It’s really coming down out there.”

“Told you!” Clark shouted from the kitchen.

“I should’ve known better than to doubt you,” Lex said back from where he stood in the living room, staring in awe through the living room window at the thick snow busily falling down outside. Behind him a small fire sat crackling in the Kent fire place.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Clark said as he walked back, handing Lex a dark brown mug with the words SMALLVILLE CO-OP written in bright red on it before settling down himself in the his dad’s chair in the family room, the leather squeaking quietly as he sat down. Clark watched Lex take a sip from the cup absently, smiling as he took in the sight of Lex dressed in a plain grey pajama slakes and a navy-dark long-sleeve shirt that hung only slightly off a frame Clark may have looked a little too much at.

He looks so calm, Clark thought to himself. Like he just woke up. Wish I could make him look like that more often.

“I’m glad I got here before everything shut down,” Lex was saying, walking over to sit on the couch opposite Clark. “Though I hope your folks are okay.”

“They’ll be fine. Mom and Dad went up to Metropolis for some Met-U alumni thing,” Clark said, placing his own mug of cocoa- a white one with the Metropolis University Bulldog on it- on the living room table, noting pleasantly the warm heat of the fire on the side of his face as he leaned forward. “Booked a hotel room and everything, so they weren’t going to be coming back tonight anyhow.”

“Oh right, the Metropolis University annual holiday reception.”

“You’ve actually heard of it?”

Lex shrugged. “I get invited to the Princeton one,” he said, sipping from his cocoa. “I never go, for obvious reasons, but I bet Martha and Jonathan don’t have those hang-ups.”

“And by hang-ups, you mean that it’s full of incredibly snobby people who hate you.”

“I meant that it’s over a thousand miles away,” Lex corrected. “Dealing with snobby people during the winter holidays is practically a Luther tradition.”

Clark felt a frown growing on his face. “You shouldn’t have to spend any part of the winter holidays with people who hate you,” he told Lex. “That’s just not right.”

“Then I’m definitely sitting in the right living room tonight.”

“Lex-”

“You know,” Lex went on, putting his own mug down next to Clark’s. “This is probably the most we’ve talked in weeks. How is life in the world of Clark Kent?”

“…better now?” Clark said sheepishly.

Lex raised an eyebrow. “Better now?”

Clark sighed. “Final exams sucked,” he said flatly. “Getting everything ready around the farm for the winter took a lot of time, and between studying and working here Chloe had me taking photos for the Talon. If it wasn’t for Mom’s sugar cookies I’d probably have crashed, like 3 days ago.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It was. I…”

“hmm?”

“I missed you,” Clark said lamely, finding himself looking at the floor. “A lot.”

 

***

 

There was a pause.

“I thought you’d given up,” Lex said after a moment. “On me,” he added as Clark looked up at him. “I mean, it’s not like a lot of people would’ve hung around this long anyway, and—”

“What- that’s- why,” Clark muttered, getting up out of his chair and walking around the living room table, “I would never give up on you, why on Earth—”

“I know most people think I’m just, like, your dirty little secret or—”

Lex would’ve continued talking, if it wasn’t for Clark yanking him off the living room couch. “You are not some dirty little secret,” Clark growled at him as Lex tried to find his footing. “You’re- you’re-”

“A friend who’s way too old for you? A fair-weather, not seasonally festive accomplice? An easily forgettable, mostly disliked, multi-billionaire’s heir?”

“You’re- you’re- you’re-” Clark stammered, before stopping, a determined looking growing across his face. “You know what?” he said, almost growling at Lex, “let me show you,” and that was all the warning Lex got before Clark pulled him closer and kissed him.

Holy Mother of Light, Lex thought dazedly.

It’s not like Lex hadn’t dreamed this. It had taken all of three seconds for Lex to notice from where he’d lain on the banks of the Elbow River that Clark’s lips were fuller and redder than half of the people Lex had ever known and to start wondering if he could get away with the excuse of a hero’s welcome to see if they tasted just as good. Lex had imagined all kinds of ways he’d kiss Clark, from sweet and soft to passionate to flat-out greedy and more, but somehow, somehow he’d forgotten to imagine “earnest” and “demanding,” because that was Clark’s teeth tearing at his lips, Clark’s tongue lapping at the roof of his mouth, Clark’s hands groping under Lex’s waistband.

It was happening. Clark Kent, local hero, was kissing him, Lex Luthor, town outcast, the whole thing fast, wet, trying too much, cocoa-scented, and just the right side of perfect for Lex.

“Clothes. Off,” Lex panted out when Clark finally shifted his teeth to bite at Lex’s neck after what had felt like an endless moment.

“Kay,” Clark said, not stopping as his hands pulled off his pants after pushing Lex’s off, leaving it to Lex to pull off their shirts the best he could while Clark’s hands raked across him to pull Lex that much closer. “God, you- the taste of you, Lex-”

“There’s a perfectly good couch right there Clark,” Lex groaned out. “Maybe we should use it?”

Clark stopped, pulling back to look at Lex. His black hair was flaring in all directions, his eyes had darkened with lust, and Lex was regretting every second that that face wasn’t back on his in the same way that Clark’s body was clutching his, the younger man’s knee trying to slide between Lex’s thighs. “My mom sits on that couch Lex,” Clark said disappointedly. “I would never do this there.”

“Well, I don’t care if you really are as strong as you think you are,” Lex stated, glaring back at him from where he rested against Clark’s body, “we’re not having sex for the first time standing up, it’s just-”

“Right, of course, it’d be better to lie down on the rug in front of the fireplace,” Clark smirked, already moving to rest Lex on it, mindful. “Way easier to clean.”

Lex laughed, shifting his legs so that they wrapped around the younger man’s waist as they laid down, Lex absently wiggling into the rug. “By the time we’re done, you’re going to have to burn this.”

“That a promise?” Clark teased as he ground down, the pressure making Lex fission with want.

“I’ll even guarantee a replacement,” Lex choked out. “Now get up here.”

Clark laughed. “Pretty late for that,” Clark said as he ducked his head to kiss Lex, grinding down against Lex.

“Clark,” Lex said, his eyes falling shut as he tilted his mouth up.

“Lex,” Clark whispered back reverently, Lex feeling Clark’s hand running down along the edge of his waist. “You’re not my dirty little secret. You’re just mine.”


	2. Back in Touch: A Desktop Wallpaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bonus background, inspired by the fic!


End file.
